An Anthropologist's Eye
by Imagination-Parade
Summary: Angela should've known that she wouldn't be able to keep this a secret from her best friend for long. An Angela & Brennan friendship fic. Contains major spoilers for Season 6!


_Hi guys! So I mentioned this in the summary, but just in case anyone missed it, SPOILER WARNING! This story WILL be discussing the major Angela/Hodgins storyline for Season 6. If you're spoiler-free and want to stay that way, please stop reading now (but come back on Friday!)_

_If you're still reading, I'm going to assume you're good with spoilers, so this is based on the one that said Angela will be attempting to hide her pregnancy from the rest of the Jeffersonian team. Upon reading that, my mind immediately went to the scene in Season 2's "The Truth in the Lye" where Brennan determined a woman was pregnant just by looking at her for a few seconds. That scene has always stood out for me because I thought it was just so cool that Brennan could do that. I'm sure the writers will probably forget about that, but I thought it'd be hilarious if she did that again with Angela this season, and this little scene was born. _

_As always, Bones isn't mine, and please review!_

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Afternoon was rapidly turning into evening as Angela Montenegro sauntered up to her best friend's second floor apartment. Everyone had returned to DC less than two weeks ago, and Brennan had asked Angela to her home to get her feedback on what was to be her fourth novel. Angela, who wore a comfortable and colorful cotton dress, brown boots, and a light jacket, shook some raindrops out of her hair as she knocked on the door. Brennan answered the door a few seconds later, dressed in loungewear for their girls' night in.

"Hey, sweetie," Angela said, greeting her friend with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hello," Brennan replied. "You didn't get too wet, did you?"

"Oh, no, just a little," Angela said, shrugging out of her jacket and boots. "I parked on the street."

"Oh," Brennan said. She began walking towards her kitchen. "I'd like to get through at least the first six to eight chapters tonight, if that's alright with you."

"Sure," Angela said. "That sounds do-able."

Angela grew nervous as she watched Brennan pull a bottle of wine and two glasses out of her kitchen cabinet. They always had wine when they got together to talk about Brennan's books, but she knew she couldn't have any tonight, and she knew that Brennan didn't yet know why. She and her husband had agreed, with much reluctance and protest on his part, not to tell anyone about her pregnancy until the end of the first trimester, so as far as Angela was concerned, she and Hodgins were the only two people who knew.

"Is white okay?" Brennan asked as she set the glasses down on her counter. "I know we normally have red, but I thought I'd get something different this time."

"Umm…yeah, that's…" Angela stuttered as she tried to figure out what to say. She settled on simply changing the subject. "When did you have time to write an entire book anyway?"

"Well, I was gone for seven months," Brennan said. "There wasn't an exceptional amount of down time, but when I did get a spare moment, the part of the Maluku Islands I was in didn't have very many recreational offerings. It's only a first draft. It's not even close to being ready for publication yet."

"Right," Angela replied.

"You can sit down on the couch, Angela," Brennan said as pulled the cork out of the bottle. "I'll be right there."

Angela nodded but remained in place, watching as Brennan poured the light-colored substance into the first glass. "You know what, sweetie? You only need to pour one glass. I don't think I want any wine tonight," she said.

"Why not?" Brennan asked. "We always have wine."

"Yeah, I know," Angela said. "Just…just not in the mood, I guess."

"Are you sure?" Brennan asked.

Angela nodded again and began nervously toying with the ruffle around the neckline of her dress. "Yeah, I'm sure. I…"

"I know you're pregnant," Brennan said, interrupting her.

"What?" Angela asked, startled by Brennan's disclosure.

"I know you're pregnant," Brennan repeated. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"I…did Hodgins tell you?" Angela asked, a hint of shock in her voice.

"No," Brennan said, offering no further explanation.

"How do you know?" Angela asked, sitting on the nearest chair she could find, which happened to be one of the tall chairs at Brennan's kitchen island.

"Your biiliac width has increased," Brennan said, glancing towards Angela's lower body.

"My what?" Angela asked, looking down at her stomach. She hadn't really noticed any noteworthy changes in that area yet.

"Your ilia – the largest bones of the pelvis – have begun shifting to widen the birth canal," she explained. "Don't worry. It's very slight. Almost indiscernible. Only the eye of a highly skilled forensic anthropologist like myself would notice. You can't be more than about…ten weeks?"

"That's…yeah…ten weeks," Angela stuttered. "That's…that's exactly right."

"I thought so," Brennan smiled proudly.

"That's incredible," Angela said. She let out a small laugh of disbelief. She should've known she wouldn't be able to keep this a secret from her best friend for long.

"It's my job to know things like that," Brennan said. "But why didn't you tell me? I thought best friends were supposed to share important life events with one another."

"They are, and trust me, you were going to be the first to know," Angela said. "It's just the whole, you know, twelve weeks, first trimester thing. Plus, I'm still kind of…sorting out my feelings about the situation."

"Really?" Brennan asked.

"Well, I wasn't exactly expecting to bring such a large souvenir back from Paris with me," Angela laughed.

"No, 'large' is not accurate," Brennan said. "At ten weeks gestation, the fetus is only approximately the size of a…"

"A kumquat. I know. I saw the online slideshow," Angela said. "Though I'm not sure how I feel about websites talking about my baby in terms of fruit."

"It's just a basis for comparison," Brennan said.

"Anyway…I meant large as in life-changing," Angela clarified.

"Oh…then your terminology is acceptable," Brennan said. "But, Ange, what are you unsure about? You've always wanted children. More specifically, you've always wanted children with Hodgins."

"I know," she said. "And don't get me wrong, I still do, and I'm happy, but we didn't talk about it. Not until it happened, that is. Hodgins is over the moon, so I'm not worried about that, but…I wanted my children to be planned for, rather than accidental surprises, and I guess when we got married, I thought any children we had _would be_ planned for. I guess that was kind of a stupid thought, huh?"

"Statistically speaking, the existence of a marriage between two people has no effect on the failure rates of birth control," Brennan said. Angela let out a small chuckle.

"Thank you," she said. The two women were silent for a moment before Angela added, "I didn't think I wanted anyone to know yet, but it feels kind of nice that someone knows."

"Doesn't Hodgins know?" Brennan asked.

"Oh, of course," Angela said. "But you're different. You're a woman."

"I've never been pregnant, Ange," Brennan reminded her. "I don't think I'll be very helpful in terms of advice. I could, however, offer you facts about common pregnancy customs or birthing practices in several different societies."

"That won't be necessary," Angela said, smiling sweetly. "And I wasn't thinking about advice. Sometimes over the last few weeks, I've just wanted someone to listen to me rant."

"Hodgins seems like a fairly good listener to me," Brennan said. "And, as a scientist, he would have at least a basic understanding of the hormonal changes you're going through."

"Well, sometimes I want to rant about _him_," Angela said. Brennan chuckled and took a sip of her drink, which reminded Angela of the origin of their conversation. "Why did you offer me wine if you knew I was pregnant?"

"I was doing an experiment," Brennan admitted with a grin. "I wanted to see if you'd tell me. Plus, we have made a habit of drinking wine while discussing my novels, so if I hadn't offered you a drink, you'd have known that I knew something was different this time."

"How long have you known?" Angela asked.

"Since you got back from Paris," Brennan said.

"Seriously?" Angela asked in disbelief.

"I noticed the change in your gait when I arrived at the diner before you, and I watched you walk across the street to meet me," Brennan said. "And then when you sat down next to me, I noticed that your breasts had grown in size, but not the type of growth that would accompany surgical implants."

"You noticed my breasts?" Angela asked, slightly amused even though she was used to her friend's candid nature.

"I was simply making an observation," Brennan said. "You were wearing a low-cut top, similar to the dress you're wearing right now. If you don't want people to notice your breasts, you shouldn't wear things with such revealing necklines."

"Oh no, sweetie, I'm not offended," Angela said with a grin. "I kind of like it."

"You do?" Brennan asked, slightly confused.

Angela nodded as the grin on her face grew a little wider. "Hey, you get to show yours off whenever you want. I've finally got them. I'm going to _flaunt_ them."

"Fair enough," Brennan said. She grabbed the bottle on her counter, filled the second glass with the pale liquid, and passed it to Angela.

"Brennan…" Angela said.

"It's sparkling cider," Brennan smiled, turning the bottle around to expose its label.

Angela grinned again and took a sip. "Of course it is. You think of everything. Let's go check out this new book of yours."

Brennan grabbed her glass and walked around the kitchen island. Angela stood as Brennan reached her, and, as they walked towards the couch, the anthropologist snaked an arm around her best friend's waist in a sideways hug.

"Hey, Ange," Brennan said.

"Yeah?" Angela replied, looking at her.

Brennan smiled. "Congratulations."

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_Thanks for reading! Review? Please?_


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